REFILE-WITNESS-Swimming off Mogadishu, a sense of hope

MOGADISHU, June 7 (Reuters) - The turquoise waters of theIndian Ocean were too much to resist. I jumped out of myclothes, hopped over the crumbling sea wall and waded out intothe frothing waves.

After all, it is not every day you get to swim offMogadishu, Somalia's ruined capital more commonly associatedwith feuding warlords, Islamist militants and kidnappings.

For Mogadishu residents who now swarm to the Lido in theirthousands on a Friday, a day at the beach brings a sense ofnewfound liberation after al Qaeda-linked rebels were forced outthe city in August last year.

It is a reminder of pre-war days when the city'swhite-washed colonial waterfront and balmy climate led some tocall it the 'Athens of Africa'.

For Dahir Malin, who was only three when Somalia plungedinto civil war in 1991, an afternoon playing volleyball on thefine white sand brought hope the city's turbulent history was inthe past.

"It's like we live in a real city, not a warzone," saidMalin, an IT graduate, now 24 years old.

It was a buzz to dive through the surf off a city whereWestern journalists have for years had to move around with armedguards, clad in body armour and unable to stay safely in any onelocation for more than a handful of minutes.

Never mind the lingering risk of suicide bombers, my bureauchief had other concerns when I spoke to him afterwards.

"What about the sharks?" he said.

The seas off Mogadishu used to be infested with killers whodined off offal from the city's butcheries, but the predatorsare now a prized catch for local fishermen and foreign fleetsfeeding Asia's appetite for fin soup.

Behind the sea wall, women brewed sweet tea and sold chilledsoft drinks out of makeshift coolboxes. Nearby, garishlycoloured murals of hamburgers and bottles of soda announced theimminent opening of the 'Safaari Caffe', one of several beachbars springing up.

Could Mogadishu really still count itself among the mostdangerous cities in the world, I wondered? A single crack ofgunfire dealt me a reality check.

I looked towards my security advisor, suddenly feelingrather exposed.

"Most likely just police at a checkpoint," he said.

"From the sound that round made, it barely left the barrel,"he said, in reference to the old ammunition still in use.

BOUNCING BACK

The gun still talks loudest in Mogadishu. Heated argumentswith automatic rifles pointed at chests flare up out of nowhere.

It is not a place to get complacent.

The beachfront villas that line the Lido, where glamourouscouples used to ride vespa scooters down palm-fringed boulevardsand diplomats feasted on lobster, are now rubble-strewn shells.

Overlooking the old port are the blown-out remains of theAruba hotel, one of Mogadishu's most iconic buildings that isnow a base for scores of African peacekeepers.

We waved to signal our presence to machine-gunners stationedbehind sandbags in the mortar-blasted arched windows.

The reality is that without the 16,000-strong force, theinsurgents who still control large chunks of central andsouthern Somalia would likely run riot again in Mogadishu.

For now, the coastal city has been given half a chance.

The chink-chink of hammers on construction sites mushroomingacross the capital has replaced the rat-a-tat-tat of daily gunbattles. The capital boasts a new sports bar serving fresh fruitjuices and billboards advertise long-distance learning courses.

In the shadow of an Italian-built tower that once guardedthe old harbour, boat builder Sharif Mohamud told me businesswas brisk.

"Every week we now build two or three new fishing boats,"the 50-year-old said, drawing heavily on a cigarette, his facecovered in flecks of fibreglass.

"Each boat sells for $1,400. I make a $150 profit on each,"said Mohamud, who has doubled his workforce to four men to copewith demand since al Shabaab retreated.

As if rubbing salt in al Shabaab's wounds, Younis Ali, ayoung sufi militia fighter now integrated into the governmentforces, enjoyed a day off from the frontline on the northernoutskirts of the city.

"We fought for this, we spilled our blood to give peoplethis freedom," said Ali, scanning the crowds frolicking in thewater.

"What we are fighting for is for everyone else to enjoy thesame kind of peace."